


cast adrift into exploration and experimentation

by wariangle



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wariangle/pseuds/wariangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine Cormier transfers to Minnesota for her PhD and meets Cosima Niehaus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cast adrift into exploration and experimentation

There is a flash of red in the corner of Delphine's eye as she logs in on Facebook, bringing her attention to the fact to the invitation from Rebecca, to a club downtown. She has also received a message from the same, saying "Doing anything Friday?" Delphine's finger pauses on the mouse pad. The club is called ZAPPHO and if the name would have failed to clue anyone in the description clearly states that it is a LGBT club.

The marker hovers over the 'accept' button as she chews her bottom lip, considering. After a month in Minnesota, Rebecca is the first real friend Delphine's made and it feels like she could use a night away from her dissertation and a chance to meet new people.

She clicks through the album, filled with pictures from club nights. The majority of the crowd is female: girls drinking, girls dancing, girls laughing, girls kissing, and striking poses in front of the camera. Mentally, she tries to copy paste herself into the images, into the ambiance of the club, and fails.

She's straight. Only she's not, she has sort of discovered, and isn't quite sure what to do with that. She looks at the photos and wonders if it is a place for her there, a woman who feels something red-hot and fluttering inside of her sometimes when she looks at women but has never done anything about it and is still undoubtedly attracted to men. She knows all the labels of course, the tags applied for codification and categorization, but it there is a difference between sticking one on yourself and feeling like it actually fits.

It takes a while, but she eventually accepts the invitation, thinking that she can always come up with some sort of excuse if she changes her mind.

  
  


Like any club, ZAPPHO is a loud and crowded place, with a floor so sticky Delphine's shoes cling to it with every step. She has met Rebecca's girlfriend Jess before and she's nice and friendly, but Rebecca's two friends Lyssa and Vera seems completely uninterested in Delphine's company. They offer her a quick "hello" in greeting and spends the evening all but ignoring her.

She rises from her seat right in the middle of Lyssa telling a long story about a trip to San Fransisco that Delphine has no knowledge about, says, "I have to use the restroom," and starts to navigate her way through the club. It's small, but even so it takes some time getting through the crowd.

She stays a bit longer than necessary in the bathroom, washes her hands meticulously and takes a few deep breaths. Suddenly, she is feeling terribly homesick, missing not only her family but also the sound of French spoken around her and the scent of France in the air. Everything's different here, but she is still the same.

On her way out, she takes the way by the bar, making the quick decision that some liquid confidence is precisely what she needs to make at least something of the night. She is trying to catch the bartender's attention when someone sidles up to her and she turns, thinking that its probably Rebecca, only to come face to face with a woman her own age, her mouth stretched into an easy, wide smile, glasses adorably crooked on her nose and dreads in a bun on her head. She's leaning into Delphine's space, just a little bit. A loop of silver glints in her nose.

"Heey," she says with a wave, even though they stand just a few inches apart. "Can I buy you a drink or, like, whatever else from the bar if alcohol's not your poison?"

"Uh," Delphine says awkwardly, eyes cutting first right to the bartender and then left to the table where Rebecca and the rest are sitting. "I..."

"Oh, hey, no worries," the woman says quickly, her hands a flurry of movement. "You're not into girls, I totally get it. And you probably went here not to be hit on by creepy guys and here I am, hitting on you. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Delphine says. "I am in a queer club, after all."

"Doesn't mean you want to get hit on, regardless of sexual preference," the woman says. "I usually don't attack people like that, I just, well..." She makes a wide, sweeping motion with both hands and laughs.

Delphine bites her lip against the question, but then she just has to ask, "How do you know I wasn't...?"

"Well, by that deer-in-headlights kinda look," the woman says. "I had three options: one, you're straight and as such unused slash uninterested in being hit on by girls. Two, you have, like, a sick jealous partner, and, three, I am really scary. I'm not and I hope it's not the second one so by method of exclusion, I settled on number one." Delphine is all but mesmerized by the way her hands fly through the air, accentuating every word. "Sorry, babble warning. By the way, I'm Cosima."

"Delphine," Delphine says. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Same," Cosima says. She is really beautiful when she smiles - uninhibited in a way Delphine finds herself inexplicably fascinated by. And drawn to. "Hey, can I buy you that drink anyway?" She holds up her hands, palms turned outward. "In a total platonic way, I mean."

"Yes, thank you," Delphine says. "That would be nice."

"I want whatever red they have," Cosima says, "but I'm guessing your more of a fancy wine person, right?"

Delphine smiles. "White wine," she says and nods. "It does not have to be fancy."

"Perhaps wine's fancy by definition," Cosima says and flags down the bartender to order their drinks. "So, by your accent I'm guessing you're French. Are you visiting?"

Delphine shakes her head. "I'm getting my PhD in immunology at University of Minnesota. I just transferred here."

"No shit!" Cosima says. "I am too! I mean, not in immunology, but in evo-devo. Weird I haven't seen you around before."

"Evo...?" Delphine begins with a frown, before realising what it probably stands for. "Evolutionary developmental biology, yes?"

"Yep," Cosima says. "Sorry, that's what we call it here. So, do you like Minnesota?"

"Yes," Delphine says honestly. "I do. Well, the university, at least, because that is where I spend most time. I just haven't..." She hesitates a brief second. "I haven't made that many friends yet, so."

Their drinks arrive and Cosima takes a deep gulp of her wine before responding. "If you want we could, like, swap numbers and hang out, study together or just do whatever. I had this Adam guy I used to study with, but then we both got superdrunk at a party and had sex. I didn't want anything more, he got pissed and... well." Cosima pauses for a second, then laughs. "Oh shit, total overshare moment. It happens with me. Obviously."

Delphine laughs, but her heart leaps in her chest at the casual, off-hand way Cosima seems to be treating her own sexuality. There is something casual and off-hand, easy-going, about all of her really, as if she is daring the world to think she can be bothered to care what it thinks with every breath, every laugh, every movement of her beautiful hands. Delphine envies her.

"Yes, I'd like to have your number," she says. "Should I program it into your phone?"

"Yes, yeah!" Cosima says, bringing her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. It has a case that says "Co S I Mo" in letters from the periodic table. "I know," Cosima says as Delphine laughs. "It was the best I could do."

Delphine types in her number and Cosima sends her a text, a simple "hi :)" so that Delphine will have hers.

"Awesome," Cosima says and puts her phone back in her pocket. "I'll text you and we'll do something fun, okay?"

"Yes," Delphine says. "Sounds fun. I mean, good. Sounds good."

Cosima laughs. "So," she says, "what's a French girl doing here on her own a Friday night?"

"I was invited by a friend," Delphine says. She leans in closer and confesses, "I ran away - her friends do not like me much."

"Yeah, some lesbians are like that," Cosima says. "Unerringly suspicious of any straight and bisexual girl they might come across, thinking we're all in here just to experiment for the night." She rolls her eyes.

"Doesn't that happen?" Delphine asks.

"Well, yeah sure, but what's wrong about experimenting?" Cosima's hands cut through the air carelessly. "As long as you're not being an asshole about it and leading someone on, I'm all for it. Sexuality is fluid in more ways than one, man. For some it's, like, set in stone. For others, it shifts and changes. It's a hard thing to figure out."

"But what if," Delphine says, "you're with a woman and she changes her mind, realizing she's more interested in men after all?"

Cosima shrugs. "If I'm totally into her, it would suck, of course. But not more than someone dumping me for any other reason. I mean, I get why its a thorny issue, but we're not helping anyone by exclusion and shaming. That's my opinion, at least." She takes a deep gulp of wine. "So," she says, but then Rebecca is suddenly there, right next to Delphine, and she falls silent.

"Remember me?" Rebecca asks Delphine with a crook of her eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, sorry," Delphine says. "We started talking, and just..."

"That's okay," Rebecca says with a smile and a meaningful glance in Cosima's direction. "Lyssa and Vera are off dancing so you can come back now, if you want."

Delphine turns to Cosima, who just does something intricate with her hands and says, "No worries, I will go and dance with my friends over there." She points. "Have a nice time."

"You too," Delphine says and her eyes linger on her for a long time as Cosima turns away, long enough that Cosima catches her eyes when she turns back to indicate to her friends where she has been. She gives Delphine a wide, flashing smile - it seems like Cosima is unable to smile in any other way - and Delphine returns it.

  
  


"So," Cosima says. "How come you left France for Minnesota?"

It's Tuesday and Delphine received a text from Cosima asking about having coffee "or whatever you drink" Sunday evening. Delphine had replied a little too quick that her classes ended early Tuesdays and got a "AWESOME. see you outside starbucks at 4 pm?" back and something had fluttered in Delphine's stomach from excitement.

It had been easy finding the cafe. She is getting to know Minnesota, learning to find her way through its many, sprawling streets. She's wearing a pale blue blouse that doesn't even smell of French laundry detergent and home any longer. It smells like nothing - like the scents surrounding Delphine everyday and she has gotten used to. It anchors her somehow, in this unknown place, making her feel like she might belong here.

Delphine shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee. She drinks it black, while Cosima is sipping from a cup filled with some ridiculous concoction with so much syrup, cream and god knows what in it that it's decidedly not coffee anymore.

"I wanted to try something new," she says. "I wanted to... be something else." She hears how it sounds and quickly adds, "It is stupid, I suppose."

"No, it's not," Cosima says. "I totally get it. Sometimes you just have to get away and see what you are without everyone's idea of what you are to them putting all these, like, heavy expectations on you."

"Yes," Delphine says. "That is precisely right."

Cosima smiles a little around the straw to her drink and Delphine asks, "What?"

"Sorry, nothing," Cosima says. "You're just - you talk so prettily. Like, so correctly. English is my native language and I speak it worse than you do. It should totally make me feel bad."

"I took a lot of English classes before coming here," Delphine says, not divulging that she really likes the way Cosima speaks, vibrant and playfully.

"How long are you staying?" Cosima asks, leaning back in her chair. She's wearing a tank-top that doesn't quite reach down to the waistband of her pants and Delphine's eyes are irrevocably darwn to the pale expanse of skin it reveals. "For, like, just a couple of semesters or are you doing your entire Phd here?"

"My entire Phd," Delphine replies, a second too late. "Then I will see what I want to do. Perhaps I will stay."

"Yeah, Minnesota's great," Cosima says. "I'm from San Fran originally and I love it, but I like this place too. It has a nice vibe."

Delphine frowns. "'Vibe'?"

"Yeah, like, it's a great place. It's nice." Cosima nods along to her own words. "Beware of picking any English up from me, though," she adds with a laugh.

She is gorgeous, she really is. Delphine has seen women walk down the street and found them beautiful, she has upon occasion felt something shift in her stomach when talking to some girl or another and they lean in close or brushes up against her, and she often conjure up images of women in her mind as she masturbate, but she has never before been so fiercely attracted to one before. Cosima has the dark hair, keen intellect and laid-back humor of Delphine's last long-term boyfriend, only coupled with a sharp tongue, a irresistible smile and the kind of toughness one develops from being a woman hellbent on succeeding in a male-dominated field. Or perhaps from being a queer woman in this world. Or both.

Irresistible, is a good word, yes. Delphine tries to use English when she thinks as well as when she speaks to make it a more natural way of expressing herself, but it often happens that she fails to find an English words that captures what she means as well as a French one would. But irresistible is precisely the right word for the way she is drawn to Cosima - somewhat difficult to wrap the tongue around and even harder to spell out on paper.

I could fall in love with this woman, Delphine thinks and it feels dangerous, but, more importantly, it feels _possible_.

Time gets lost as they talk and Delphine lets it, too occupied with Cosima, entranced by the never-ceasing movements of her hands, her laughter, the way she makes sense of and understands everything Delphine says.

  
  


"Oh, boy, this sucks." Cosima sighs heavily and Delphine looks down at her from where she is sitting at Cosima's desk, while Cosima is lying on the floor surrounded by books and notes, her double helix-decorated in front of her. "I love reading and all," Cosima continues, rolling from her stomach to onto her back and stretching her arms up above her head, "but sometimes I just need to do something, you know? Like, get me inside a lab before my head explodes."

She sits up, grabs something off a low table, and without preamble she starts rolling a joint as Delphine stares.

"Oh, shit, sorry," Cosima says as she notices Delphine's look. "You want some?"

"No, thank you," Delphine says politely.

"You don't mind me smoking it, do you?" Cosima asks, hesitating with the lighter already in hand.

"It is your apartment," Delphine says, because it is. And it is lovely: so Cosima that it felt almost too intimate walking inside, as if all the scattered stuff, the paintings on the walls, or the books on her shelves might reveal some secret insight into Cosima's personality that Delphine shouldn't be privy to.

"Yeah, but I want you to be comfortable," Cosima says.

"You're welcome to go ahead," Delphine says and Cosima smiles in that way Delphine has recognized she always does when Delphine's English is particularly neat.

She lights the joint and takes a deep drag on it. "Mmm, much better," she says and spreads herself out on her back on the carpet again. "Hey," Cosima's head turn to Delphine who also has given up on her reading, "we should do something fun this weekend."

"Like what?" Delphine asks after taking a deep breath to keep herself from blurting, yes, anything, whatever you want.

"Like, I dunno, a club? We could go dancing." Cosima grins up her Delphine and its gorgeous even upside-down. "I am a terrific dancer."

"Yes," Delphine says.

"Yes, I am?"

Delphine flicks a paper clip on her face, making Cosima laugh. "Yes, it sounds good," she says.

"Awesome," Cosima says.

  
  


Cosima dances just as she talks - quickly, confidently, creatively and a little off-beat. She's got rhythm, but she dances to one of her own, hips swaying and arms lifted high above her head. Delphine is not a bad dancer, but next to Cosima she is feeling stiff and slow-moving.

They have had a few glasses of wine and some rainbow-colored drink Cosima insisted on and Cosima is adorably drunk, her cheeks flush and eyes glimmering, her limbs loose but still oddly graceful.

Delphine is wearing her high-heeled leather boots for the evening. Cosima is wearing heels too, but even so she seem so short, and Delphine kind of likes it, likes the way Cosima looks up at her and the way her arms fit perfectly around Delphine's waist and Delphine's across Cosima's shoulders as they dance close together, Cosima stepping on her toes more than once.

It would be easy, dangerously so, to lean down, tilt Cosima's head up and press their mouths together. Cosima would have to stand on her tip-toes and she would probably still taste sweet from that drink.

She doesn't, but when they walk home through the night and, at a crossing, is about separate to head towards their respective apartments, Cosima leans forward and Delphine holds her breath, feeling as if she might grow light-headed from it even though it can't be more than a second.

Cosima kisses her cheek, a soft, quick peck that leaves a bit of sticky residue of lip gloss in it's wake like a memory. It feels like it reflects the light of the streetlamps the same way the puddles the rain left behind do.

  
  


Delphine can't breathe. She walked as swiftly as she could from campus and back to her apartment with tears pricking her eyes, forcing herself not to break down before she had a chance to get inside the door. Now it is firmly closed behind her back and she allows herself to sink down on the floor, staring haplessly before her. The tears receded during her brisk, furious walk, but the terrible, hollow feeling inside of her has not and she hides her face in her hands, suddenly wishing that she would cry.

Her phone chimes from somewhere, perhaps inside her bag, and she dimly remembers texting Cosima before stepping into her supervisor's office, making plans to meet up. Whatever those were, they're moot now.

She starts digging through her bag and the phone chimes again, but she ignores it. Instead she pulls out a packet of cigarettes and forces herself up from her sitting position.

The autumn air fill the apartment with its chill as she opens her largest window and leans out, lighting a cigarette and pulling the smoke deeply into her lungs. She breathes out and watches the smoke disintegrate in the Minnesota air.

She does not know how long she sits by the window, growing colder by the second, but when she hears the knock on the door, there's only three cigarettes left in the previously half-filled package and her hands are shaking from more than just the chill.

It's Cosima, naturally, pushing her way into Delphine's apartment and unpacking Eskimo pies and a bottle of red wine on Delphine's kitchen table.

"I take it your meeting went hella bad?" she asks sympathetically and Delphine nods and all but collapses into Cosima's arms, tears finally falling. Cosima lets her cry for several long minutes, standing still and patting Delphine comfortingly on the back.

"It's not the end of the world," Cosima says eventually. "Okay? Whatever's wrong, you can fix it. I know you can. You're completely brilliant."

"I know," Delphine says and lifts her face from Cosima's shoulder. She sniffs. "I know that I can fix it. It is not catastrophic, not really. It's my self-confidence that is broken."

"Not to be an insensitive dick, but if you don't want any ice-cream I should perhaps pop those in the freezer?" Cosima says, nodding towards the Eskimo Pies.

"Yes," Delphine says, the corner of her mouth twisting up in a miniscule smile. "I'm not hungry."

"Then I have just the thing," Cosima says as she puts the ice cream box in the freezer. Out of her bag she brings a bag of pot, paper and a lighter.

"Marijuana?" Delphine says.

"Mhm. This will fix you right up," Cosima says. "Only if you want to, of course. It usually does the trick when I'm upset."

Delphine finds herself nodding and with quick, practiced, gorgeous fingers Cosima rolls her a joint. Delphine coughs on the first pull but she quickly gets the hang of it and Cosima grins as she rolls another for herself.

  
  


They end up on the small square of grass outside Delphine's apartment, spread out on a blanket. The chill, more noticeable now that night has fallen, seems a distant thing. Delphine is warm from the pot and the wine they swig directly from the bottle and the electrifying presence of Cosima's body brushing against her.

"I feel like I am a..." Delphine searches for the right word, but comes up blank. "Wreck. Mess. Failure." She says the last word quietly.

"No, no, no, no," Cosima says and sits up, as if what she is about to say cannot be said lying down. "You're, like, the most awesome person ever. This is not a failure, just, like, a tiny bump in the road that you will get over and then totally just breeze past. Okay?"

Delphine rolls over to her side to see Cosima better. "Tell me something," Delphine says. "Tell me about one of your 'bumps in the road.' Divert me."

"Uhhh, alright," Cosima says and squints. "Hmm."

"You don't have any," Delphine says with a smile. "You are a perfect student."

"Yeah, I do! I totally do! Just..." Cosima is silent for a second, thinking, before saying, "Aha! Got one."

"What?" Delphine asks.

"I got sent home from pre-school once," Cosima says conspiratorially as if it is a dangerous secret, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Rad," Delphine says ironically, a word she's picked up from Cosima and the smile on Cosima's lips breaks out. "What did you do?"

"I got fake-married to Rita Daniels in the middle of the playground."

"You got sent home for getting fake-married to a girl?"

"Mhm. Well, it was my third wedding that day. They could perhaps accept one girl-on-girl wedding, but three was pushing it." Cosima laughs and takes another gulp of wine. "Should have brought more of this stuff."

"Did you know then?" Delphine asks.

Cosima shrugs, seemingly unfazed by the question. "Dunno. I didn't know know. I mean, I didn't have much sexuality at all at six, but I liked... trying stuff. Experimenting with social norms and expectations, I guess. That's why I went into the sciences, I suppose - the laws of nature does not give as easily."

"Does the laws of... the social?"

"Not really, perhaps," Cosima says. "For me they do. I just do what I want and am what I am and it works for me, but that's not possible for everyone, of course."

Silence. Cosima lays back down, snow angel style, her eyes on the stars above. Delphine takes the bottle off the grass, drinks, and catches an escaped drop of wine with her thumb.

"I think I am..." The droplet spreads like thin blood into her skin, staining it purple. "I know sexuality is a spectrum, but I have never... Not..." She sighs, begins anew. "I have been thinking about... bisexuality. For myself. And..."

She stops, because Cosima's mouth is against hers, slightly chapped lips sliding against her own with firm pressure. It is unexpected and Delphine cannot begin to figure out how to react before its over, Cosima scrambling back and frantically adjusting her glasses.

"Sorry," she says. "I shouldn't have, liked, attacked you like that. Fuck. I'm sorry. I'm a total asshole for interpretating that as you wanting in my pants. You, like, opened up, sharing something important and I take that to mean that you're into me. I'm an idiot."

"No," Delphine says. "You're not. It is what it means."

"I... What?" Cosima looks at her. "Are you yanking my chain right now?"

"No," Delphine says again, "I'm not... whatever that means. I like you."

A smile splits Cosima's face again. "Delphine Cormier, are you asking me out by coming out to me? You sure know how to win over a girl."

"Have I?" Delphine asks, heart pounding in her chest.

"What?"

"Won you over?"

It should not be possible for Cosima's grin to get any wider, but it is. "Yeah," she says.

Perhaps it is the pot, or Cosima, or the pent-up longing inside Delphine finally breaking free, but the kiss they share is tremendous, earth-shattering. Cosima is a bit of a sloppy kisser, but it's good, so good, and Delphine chases the taste of her as her tongue maps out her mouth.

Cosima pulls away, Delphine blushing at the sound of disappointment coming from her own mouth. Cosima looks delighted, but quickly grow serious.

"This is totally not in any way me turning you down at all," she says, "but we've had a lot of wine and pot and you've been, like, emotionally compromised. So I think it would be a good idea to hold this off for the night, at least?"

"Yes," Delphine reluctantly agrees. "That is sensible."

"Very," Cosima says, nodding. "And hella hard."

Delphine smiles and lets the hand that has been resting on Cosima's arm to drift down to link their fingers together. "Is this fine?" she asks and Cosima nods with a small, private smile and says, "Yeah, totally okay."

Cosima stays over, ostensibly because it is late and cold outside. She sleeps in Delphine's bed, and they only sleep, even though Delphine cannot help but look long and hard when Cosima slides off her tank top and skirt, revealing creamy skin and purple underwear.

  
  


Delphine wakes squinting against the light shining in from the bedroom window, realizing that she forgot to close the drapes last night. Cosima is nestled in the crook of her arm, head resting on her shoulder, a pleasant weight against Delphine's side.

When she turns, Cosima blinks up at her, half-awake, and Delphine cannot help but smile at little at how bare Cosima's face seems with her glasses missing and her make-up smeared.

"Morning," Cosima mutters, her voice rough with sleep and rubs her eyes.

"Morning," Delphine replies softly.

They lay gazing at each other for a long time, hands linked. Then Delphine shifts closer, lets her lips graze along Cosima's jaw, and then...

"Mm-hm," Cosima says and leans back. "Morning breath."

Delphine pauses. "Morning breath...?"

"You know, that disgusting feeling and taste in your mouth after you've slept. Not compatiable with kissing."

"Don't be silly," Delphine says and kisses her. She does taste a bit like sleep and of sour wine as well, but Delphine doesn't mind. It is a slow, exploring kiss, one that Delphine feels down to her toes. Heat pools in the pit of her stomach and she moves closer, tightens her arms around Cosima. Mindlessly, Cosima slings a leg over Delphine's hip and Delphine gasps against her mouth as their groins press together from a slow roll of Cosima's hips.

It seems like her reaction makes Cosima hesitate, but Delphine just slides her hands into her hair and deepens the kiss. Their breasts crush together and Delphine feels Cosima's heartbeat against her own, racing along with Cosima's breath, and Delphine forgets everything but how much she /wants/.

The slope of Cosima's back is soft against her hand and she whispers, "May I?" in Cosima's ear, fingers touching the clasp of her bra. She nods hastily and Delphine fumbles for a brief second before getting it open.

Cosima's breasts are one shade paler than the rest of her skin, her nipples rosy pink, hardened, and - pierced. Delphine's mind blanks out at the sight of the small silver rods through Cosima's nipples.

"You've..." is all she manages to say, mouth going dry.

Cosima looks down. "Yeah," she says. "Got them during my rebellious teenage years." She crooks an eyebrow and grins. "You like?"

Dumbly, Delphine nods.

Cosima rolls over onto her back. "They're, like, super sensitive," she says, tugging lightly at the corner of one rod with her fingers. "Feel free to go to town."

Feeling like a blushing virgin, Delphine traces trembling fingers up Cosima's arm and out over her collar bone. Cosima's stomach tightens as her fingertips scoots slowly to the left, thumb running quickly across her nipple. Lightly, she tugs at the jewellery with her fingertips and Cosima responds with a gasp and her eyes flutter closed as Delphine does it again, a little more boldly. She bends down, but hesitates for a second, breath fanning across Cosima's breast.

"Hey," Cosima says, her fingers gentle in Delphine's hair, "you shouldn't do anything you're not cool with."

"I am cool with this," Delphine says and smiles up at Cosima before taking her nipple into her mouth. The taste of metal and Cosima's skin mingle on her tongue and she tentatively sucks, trying to figure out what feels best for Cosima. She swirls her tongue around the nipple and Cosima groans, arching against her.

She grows more brave, letting her hand squeeze Cosima's breast and fingertips pinch her nipple, feeling the slim metal rod intersecting it. She bites down around it on the other breast and is rewarded with a hoarse "Fuck!" from Cosima.

It's making her head swim and her cunt throb, the feel of the planes and curves of Cosima's body pressing against her, the swell of her breasts in her hands, and the taste of her, salty and sweet, in her mouth. Cosima is a vocal, expressive lover, showing her pleasure with low, never-ending sounds deep in her throat and the lithe, pushing movement of her body. It is both exhilarating and relieving to be so assured.

"Yes, yes, yes," Cosima mumbles roughly and when Delphine looks up, Cosima's arm is moving, fingers working beneath her panties. A deep red flush has spread from her cheeks down her neck and breasts, and her brow is furrowed.

Delphine teeth tugs at the piercing in her nipple again and Cosima groans, thigh tightening where it is pressed up against Delphine's. With a deep breath, Delphine slides her fingers down Cosima's stomach, hovering at the hem of her underwear. Nudging Cosima's hand out of the way just a bit, her fingers move further down until they are stroking her together, Cosima's hips rolling against their joined hands.

Cosima doesn't make a sound as she comes, but every muscle in her body tenses and her hips jerk violently. Delphine keeps up the circling, stroking motion of her fingers until Cosima keens and grabs her wrist, stilling her hand with a groan.

Cosima's breast is wet with saliva, glistening tantalizingly in the morning light when Delphine lets her nipple slip from her mouth and lifts her head. It seems like she has sucked a mark in Cosima's skin, and Delphine likes that, likes seeing traces of herself on Cosima'a body.

"Holy shit," Cosima says as she flops bonelessly back against the pillows. She looks down to where Delphine's hand is still toying with the piercing in her nipple and says, "Hey, you want me to grab a needle and a safety pin and do one on you?"

"No," Delphine says, not even interested in imagining how it must hurt. "But," she says slowly, teeth chewing on her lower lip for a second, "there is another thing I would like to try."

Cosima reaches up, fingers tangling in Delphine's hair, and kisses her, lightly, teasingly. "Are you conducting an experiment, Dr Cormier?" she asks with a grin.

Delphine reaches up and traces the irresistible curve of Cosima's lip with her thumb. "I doubt I would be able to be objective," she says.

Cosima's smile turns soft and sweet. "Keep talking geeky to me, baby," she says.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> basically all I wanted was cosima with pierced nipples, and then, idk, feels happened.
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr](http://wariangle.tumblr.com/)!


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